


A Bad Memory

by Genesis_Rain



Category: Séance (AU) | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia - Fandom, 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Domestic Violence, Past Child Abuse, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2021-01-04 20:20:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21203504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Genesis_Rain/pseuds/Genesis_Rain
Summary: Life hasn't been kind to Kara, and unfortunately, it's not getting any kinder.





	A Bad Memory

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Séance](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20540027) by [Hiboux](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hiboux/pseuds/Hiboux). 

> Rebar is a type of steel material used in the construction of concrete structures.  
I hope you all enjoy this prequel to the Seance series! Let me know what you think or if you find any errors!

_That stubborn, foolish man, only thinking of himself, never of his family, never of me! I never thought it could get to this point. I can’t handle much more of this! I have to get out of here! I, I-... _

_I can’t. I can’t leave her, not my little girl. What will I do? I can’t stay here. Not now. I, I just, I just need some air. “_Honey! I’m running to the store! Do you need anything! Sweetheart? Kara?”

My ears were deaf to my mother, all of my senses enraptured in the manga before me. It was the most recent volume and I was inhaling every word, every image. Energy flowed through my body as the pace of the story rose and fell. I had been following Izuku Midoryia on his journey to becoming the number one hero for years now. He was a part of me. He was my friend. Then, there were others we met along the way, that I thought of differently, thoughts that made me blush.

They were known by the fandom as the Bakusquad, the three silly boys tagging along with their adopted spiky friend. My mind wandered to the ash blonde, his piercing red eyes and stupidly attractive grin burning into my heart like the heat from his hands. His gruff manner yet desire for excellence drew admiration from within me and I could do nothing less than wish for his success. 

I often dreamed of being his partner, his teammate, even his lover. Telling him silly jokes and puns that would make him cringe and tell me to shut up, all while his eyes would be smiling. Imagine saving the day with him at work then lounging together on the couch at home. 

An image came to mind of his face, close to mine. Emotions flashed across his features. _Curiosity. Embarrassment. Anger. Determination. Doubt. Embarrassment. Confidence. Wonder._

He traced his fingers over my lips, down my chin and up my jawline. He held his hand there at the side of my face, tracing my ear with his thumb and setting his fingers at the back of my neck. 

“Come here” he whispered brusquely, as he pulled me closer, hands now holding my face. As he drew close, the smell of burnt sugar increased and I inhaled, making a memory of the sweet scent. Our foreheads met and I knew what he wanted. He could have taken it for himself, but instead he waited, scarlet eyes locked on mine with a question pooling deep inside them. I closed my eyes and heard him chuckle. I leaned up to him, he leaned down to me and- 

“Kara!” I was quite literally shaken from my daydream by my mother, leaned over the back of the couch gripping my shoulders.

“Oh my gosh _what! _What do you-?” I stopped. Her eyes were red and they glistened from recent tears. It was then that I noticed the strong scent of alcohol permeating the apartment.

_Not again. _Dad was drinking again. Honestly, if I did have a quirk, I hoped it was like Katsuki’s. Something that burned as hot as my hatred for the man who made my mother cry. Even without powers I would march in there right now and beat his drunk hide to a pulp, but I was a petite fifteen year old and a black eye, bloody nose and purpling bruises later, I learned the hard way about confronting him when he’s like this. It only makes it worse when he then blames my mom for my actions and while I’m lying on the floor bleeding he rails into her, beating her not only to cause her pain but to punish me.

“I’m going to the store. Do you need anything?” All I wanted to do was make her pain go away. To hug her until she felt whole again. But I couldn’t. Not while we were here. He wouldn't let her get a job. He wouldn’t let us leave. How it was that we got so desperately dependant on that deadbeat I have no idea.

“Yeah, just some dark chocolate and some orange juice.” I knew that while she was getting me chocolate she would pick something for herself, and I needed the orange juice to fuel my own addiction.

“Okay Peanut, I’ll be back in a while. Remember not to go out on the balcony. They are doing an add-on to the building and there is construction going on below outside.” I watched as she left the apartment, pinching the bridge of my nose to try and calm my inner rage.

_I have to do something. Something to make her feel better. But what? _I looked around the apartment. Dirty laundry was strewn across the floor, dust and crumbs coated the furniture. Dishes were stacked in the kitchen and on the coffee table the ashtray had spilt over the crude magazines. Cleaning the apartment didn't feel like much to offer, but if it would take it off my mother’s mind, then you could bet I was gonna do it. 

_Well, here goes._

_~~~~~_

I had finally finished sweeping the laminate floors. _Ugh thank goodness, sweeping is the worst._ An hour or so later and my mom still hadn’t come home from the store, but I had expected this. I knew she had gone to the store not out of the need for groceries, but of the need to escape. 

_What if she doesn’t come back this time?_ “Shut up Kara,” I admonished myself, “she wouldn’t do that to you.” I put the broom and dustpan away and looked around the apartment, surveying my work. _Not bad. _I walked around checking little things, lighting mom’s favorite candles and putting small clutter away. As I walked by the glass doors to the balcony I noticed the bags that were piled outside. Instead of taking our trash to the dumpster, we had started throwing the bags out on the unused balcony. It caused my mom constant anxiety but she didn’t have enough energy to tackle the project. I checked the time, estimating I had about a half hour or so before she got back. 

_She said not to go out on the balcony, but I’m sure she would appreciate having the trash dealt with. _I approached the glass door and slid it open. I was instantly assaulted by a billowing wall of months old rotten stench. “_Oh my g-” _I clapped a hand over my mouth and slammed the door shut, fighting the urge to hurl. 

“Wwwat the HELLL was THAT?” I froze, my senses on high alert. I listened as the drunkard moved around in his room, panic rising as his uneven footsteps approached the door. _Fight, Flight or Freeze. Fight, Flight or Freeze. Fight, Flight or Freeze! _

I dove for the end of the couch, curling my body against it, making myself as small as possible. I heard the door creak open and the monster stumble out. _Don’t move, Don’t Breathe. Don’t move, Don’t Breathe. Don’t move, Don’t Breathe. _

His footsteps got closer and I braced myself for my discovery. I had known pain at his hands before, but I couldn’t lie and say that I wasn’t terrified of experiencing it again. _You’re okay, You’ll be fine. You’re okay, You’ll be fine. You’re okay, You’ll be fine. _

_Bakugou and Todoroki wouldn’t be so afraid._

I squeezed my eyes shut, awaiting the impending punishment. But he stopped. There was silence, but I didn’t dare move. I waited, my body tingling as it warned me of the predator, that I was just kept from his view. Seconds ticked by like days at a time. And then-

“Shhhhtuupid noisezz, lllet a man drrink in… peash.” The footsteps receded towards his room, and finally the door closed. I let out the breath I had been holding and roughly wiped the tears that I hadn't realized were running down my face.

_Stupid, evil jerk, first you make my mom cry, then you make me cry. Why am I even crying!_

I sat there for a minute longer, focusing on my breathing like the article I had read online had said. When the panic subsided enough for me to function, I looked at the time. 

_Twenty minutes, just get the trash taken out and be done. _I was not one to leave a goal unfulfilled and even if that smell killed me the trash was being taken out today. 

I somehow managed to scrounge together some gloves and a bandana to cover my nose and mouth. I opened the door and the smell was strong, but it was nowhere as suffocating as it had been before. I walked out onto the balcony for the first time in a while and looked at the view, which was admittingly, not much. I went to the railing and looked down at the construction. It had begun just recently. Only a concrete foundation with some rebar was there. 

It was odd looking down at the ground like this. My mind flashed back to a couple months ago, one of the worst days in my memory. I had been beaten horrifically. The monster had ripped off my shirt and used the tent rods from the pup tent I got for camp to bruise every bit of my skin he could see. My mom had then gotten in between us and he began again on her. 

I had crawled to the glass door and dragged myself outside, listening to my mother screaming behind me. I pulled myself up and looked over the edge at the garden below and for the first time, I had considered jumping. But listening to my mother scream, I knew I couldn’t. I couldn’t leave her with him. I had to be brave, and fight through the pain, just like Deku. 

I turned away from both the railing and the memories, right back into the rancid smell. 

_I can’t believe we haven’t gotten complaints about this. _

It was slow goings. Grab a couple bags, rush through the apartment, down the stairs, through the parking lot to the dumpster back up again. Multiplied by what five, maybe seven? Finally I was on the last two bags. I was pretty exhausted after the emotional scare from earlier combined with running up and down the stairs. The finish line was in sight and I was relieved. 

I bent down and picked up the two bags that had been at the bottom of the pile. I lifted them off the ground. One was fine, but the other completely crumbled, spilling its disgusting contents all over the balcony. 

“Are. You. Serious.” I said to the deteriorated bag in my hand. It was personal. It had to be. I put the two bags down, one empty, one full and ran inside. I grabbed a new bag as well as the broom and dust pan and set to work cleaning up the additional and totally unnecessary mess. I bagged up the big pieces and swept the little ones into a pile. Running the last two bags down to the dumpster, I estimated I had sevenish minutes left. I came back and finished the pile, put all the cleaning supplies away and went back out on the balcony. It was done.

_Finally, Mom is going to be thrilled when she sees this. I can’t wait to see her smile!_

I went back to the railing and turned to lean against it.

“Kara? What are you doing?”

It happened in a second.

I leaned back into the old, rusty railing, looked around over the edge for the angry voice of my mother, and didn’t stop. 

“_KARA!!!”_

The railing gave way. But I didn’t understand. I was shocked. What was going on?

_Am I… falling?_

I went down. My vision went white.

I wish I could say that was it. That was the end. 

But it wasn’t. 

~~~~~

There was ringing in my ears. 

_What just happened. I… fell? So shouldn’t I be on the ground? Why am I… why am I floating?_

My vision slowly faded back into color. My body was burning, but not like the burn of a fire, but the burn of ice. It hurt. A LOT. 

I slowly lifted my head up. I was about two feet off the ground. I tried to sit up but I hissed in pain. I couldn’t move. I looked to where my shoulder was stuck. My eyes widened before I passed out again.

I had been impaled on the rebar below.

~~~~~

“Kara! KARA! _KARA BABY PLEASE!”_

I opened my eyes to see my mom, frantic eyes pouring tears.

_Why isn’t she smiling? Did she not like my surprise?_

The icy pain came back in waves. My muscles twitched and convulsed around the blunt bars that had passed through, trying to rid my body of the foreign objects. 

“Oh Kara. I told you not to go out on the balcony. I told you! Why didn’t you listen!?” 

I tried to respond, but my tongue, or maybe my brain was not working. I only managed one measly word. 

“Surprise” She didn’t respond, she didn’t hear me.

“We’ve called 911, they’re on their way”

“What happened?”

“What can we do?”

“Look at her, I don’t think there is anything that can be done”

The voices of my neighbors pounded around in my skull. Along with, something else. Laughter? All I knew was I needed them to stop. My senses were overloaded. I just wanted my mom, wanted her to hold me. 

“There’s so much blood”

I saw my mom’s eye’s look across my body. Her eyes filled with horror as she noticed the blood pouring out of me. 

“KARA!” She went for the worst wound, one of the bars that had punctured my lung. She tried to apply pressure, but instead of stopping the flow she only managed to slide me farther down on the bar. White hot pain shot through my nerves to my brain, causing my back to arch and muscles to move only worsening the pain I was in. 

I let out what would have been a scream, but only came out as a strangled gasp. Blood began to fill my lungs. I could feel it becoming harder and harder to breath as I choked on the substance that was intended to keep me alive.

The laughing grew louder.

Lights were flashing and everything was loud. Paramedics and firefighters rushed to my side. I was truly drowning in my blood now. My mom was pulled away from me as she was forced to give room to those who would try to save my fading life.

I looked up to try to see her face and gasped, or rather just spit up more blood. Behind my mother, standing tall and bright, was an angel.

_I’m saved. _But, the angel, was just laughing. Not a mischievous, or sinister chuckle. No, a full on breath wheezing, knee slapping, tears falling laugh. Needless to say I was confused.

I reached out to the angel. It hurt, terribly, but I knew that he was here to save me. If I could grab his hand he would rescue me. But he didn’t reach back, in fact, my desperate effort to reach him seemed to make him laugh harder! 

My mother saw me reaching out and rushed to grab my hand.

“Oh Kara, oh my baby, oh Peanut.” She was sobbing. She had this look in her eyes. She knew. I looked into her eyes. I had so many things I wanted to say. 

_I can’t leave! I can’t leave her here! With him! What will happen to her! I’m not ready! I’m only 15! I can’t leave her alone. Oh Mom. Mom! I’m so sorry. So, so sorry. _

The angel finally wiped his eyes and looked at me. Not with pity, or compassion, but more like I was a joke.

“Alright Poppet, as hilarious as this has been, I believe you are finished now.”

He reached his hand _through_ my mother’s chest and took mine. As soon as he did so, the world began to fade. The sounds, the lights, the pain, and my mom.

_No! No please! I can’t leave her!_

My mom started calling my name, but her voice seemed far away. 

_No! Stop! Stop!_

She was panicking, nearly screaming.

_NO! MOM! MOM! NO! _

I looked into the eyes of my mother, and saw her face for the last time. 

~~~~~

“Nagata?!”

“Yuuta! Let us in!”

“Move over idiot!”

“The door’s locked. BAKUGOU YOU CAN’T BREAK IT DOWN!”

“You wanna bet!”

An explosion blew away the door to your room. Inside you were there, screaming and sobbing and thrashing against the sheets. Your friends ran to your side and sprung into action.

“Yuuta its okay, its us. We’re here.”

“Cover his eyes”

“Get the sheets undone”

“Yuuta? Hey can you hear us?”

“You’re okay. We got you.”

“Thank goodness we installed that baby monitor yesterday.”

“Glad I thought of it.”

“Not now Bakugou.”

They dragged your, or rather, Nagata’s body into a sitting position and held you as you sobbed in their arms. They all shared looks of concern between them, even Bakugou. Normally when you had a nightmare, you woke up, calmed down and you were fine. Not this time. Now you wailed openly, not caring, or maybe not aware of the people around. They knew one thing. Whatever had been different about this nightmare, it had rocked you to your core. Kirishima stroked your head, whispering comfort into your ear. 

“Shhhhh, it’s okay Yuuta. You’re okay. We’ve got you. It was just a nightmare.”

But you continued to sob. Because you knew the truth. All that had happened in your dream that night, it wasn’t a nightmare at all.

It was real.


End file.
